Styrofoam to Steel
by 221bdeductions
Summary: Matthew had always been the good twin, the honor role, the one to pursue one of the most impressive, safe jobs. Too bad his crazy spy twin was called MIA and said crazy twin's almost-boyfriend needed a doctor just in case the rescue mission went sour. Lets not mention no one but Matthew and Ivan believed Alfred might be alive. Time to put the med books down and pick up a pistol.
1. Chapter 1

It was a normal night at Matthew's home. He sat in his favorite seat, the plaid one that his papa had tried to burn more than once, in front of the tv watching old hockey games and sipping from a mug of hot chocolate, enjoying the way the warm liquid chased away any lingering chills from his time outside.

Winter in Canada was always cold, but Matthew didn't mind much. The snow was beautiful, and he glanced outside through his window as the puffy flakes fluttered by. What a nice night...

Everything felt so peaceful and still, and the Canadian savored the moment of stillness. With his studies, job, and his hectic family, he didn't get much quiet or alone time.

That being said, he had begun to miss his family. Most of their talking was done over the phone.

Christmas would be rolling around soon, and he found himself just as excited as he had been as a child only for different reasons. Matthew would no longer rush down the stairs, racing his twin to get to the presents left by old Saint Nick to their parents' amusement, but he still felt that the holidays were magical.

Francis would still be in the kitchen as if he had never moved back to France and all and years of only seeing him through the screen of a phone or computer would disappear.

Arthur would be complaining about how his boys were so busy as if it wasn't partly his fault that he missed out on seeing them, making Matthew feel both amusement and guilt before the Brit would begin to bicker with the Frenchmen about something insignificant.

Alfred... Well, Alfred would be being Alfred. Matthew chuckled quietly at the thought and took a moment to blow on his hot chocolate, because the steam had been fogging up his glasses.

Matthew didn't even know where his twin was at the moment. Alfred traveled so often with so little contact allowed between him and his family during missions.

It had taken some adjusting for the twins to get used to being apart after rooming together their entire lives before Alfred got his job and was swept up into adventure,

but they were doing alright... Truly they were. That's the sad part about growing up, you lose people and experiences, and you must make do and be fine.

Over the holidays, Alfred's laughter filled the house and he grinned like none of his childhood hope had fled him, because most of it hadn't. Alfred still believed in heroes and the good in the world with his whole being.

He felt the pull of the universe and all it had to offer so strongly that he appeared strange to the average person. Strange but endearing.

Matthew found himself smiling as he set his cup down on the coffee table by his chair.

The ice hands of fear soon chased that look away when the dropping sensation of momentary panic took hold, squeezing quick and letting go. A creaking noise had come from the hallway.

Matthew strained his hearing, totally silent and barely breathing. After a few moments of hearing nothing but the wind outside, he blushed at his own childish fear and chuckled.

Honestly, no one could get in. He had the doors all locked, and he had a great alarm system. He also had no enemies. "It was probably just Kuma...', he said softly.

He was about to pick up his hot chocolate when a door slammed and he jumped out of the chair. "Oh maple!", he whispered in a panic as he ran by the tv and grabbed his trusty hockey stick.

Suddenly, he wasn't the collage student that could live life on his own. He was the ten year old that had hid behind the couch with his brother after they'd been left home alone for the first time.

He could have sworn he heard a quick laugh. "Who's there!", he yelled/said at a normal volume. No answer, isn't that just great?

He crept through his own house like he was the one breaking in and not wanting to be heard. Every corner was a new danger, a new spike of adrenalin.

He felt a tad bit ridiculous, but what else could he do? He didn't want to call the cops and be a bother if it was just his imagination. He would die of embarrassment if that ever happened!

Matthew was almost done checking the entire house when he heard a soft creak from behind him. he didn't even have time to turn around before he was tackled from behind.

He yelled out in surprise and fell into the carpet. It was a small mercy that he had been tackled in a room with a soft floor. He struggled even after his "weapon" had slipped through his fingers.

So this was it. He was tempted to tell this criminal he was dead if he hurt him, but the whole, "my brother is a secret agent/assassin/whatever else the government needs" thing just sounded like a totally fake story to avoid being mugged or killed.

Then, familiar laughter reached his ears. Oh that stupid, self absorbed, badass, gun-obsessed, hockey failure, football brute, arse!

"Alfred you dick!", Matthew screamed as his twin laughed thunderously and got off him, holding out a hand to help Matthew up which was slapped away as the annoyed blonde got to his feet himself.

"I could have hurt you!", Matthew said as he snatched his hockey stick up and held it close like a living thing. It was his favorite one which he had won a tournament with. The smooth surface fit nicely and was a familiar comfort in his hands. Once he was sure it was okay, he looked at his brother.

That was when Matthew got to see his twin for the first time in almost a year. Alfred looked much the same as he always did. His grin hadn't changed at all and it seemed to light up the dark room.

His eyes were still filled with joy and amusement, open for the world to see like the sky. His hair was still choppy with the one stubborn strand Arthur had tried to tame when Alfred was a energetic child that could barely sit still long enough for his hair to be brushed.

He didn't appear to be harmed in anyway save for a few bruises marking his tan skin black and blue that had defiantly not come from tackling Matthew. He wore his favorite brown jacket and some jeans, and he shook slightly due to the dusting of white from the snow. He had an eyebrow raised at Matthew's statement.

"Was that meant for me or the stick? Doesn't matter. I'm home early, Mattie! Is that the thanks I get for hiking through your freezing county to see my favorite twin?"

Matthew couldn't help but laugh quietly, but he quickly made a face of a serious nature. "Is that anyway to refer to the hockey stick of legend?" Blue eyes rolled towards the ceiling. "Come on bro, you know I only adore over the baseball bat of legend, stop trying to convert me."

Matthew just couldn't keep up the serious and slightly mad act when Alfred looked so happy and ridiculous. "You're an idiot, and I'm your only twin. I could've driven to the airport and picked you up." He brushed some snow from Alfred's shoulder. "You look freezing."

"I am freezing!" Alfred exclaimed before pulling his brother into a tight hug, stealing all the warmth he could.

Matthew was far too used to Alfred's surprise hugs to be, well, surprised. He sighed in fake annoyance and hugged back. "Get your own body heat, and stop trying to steal mine."

"Stop being so greedy! You're a human heater! Don't let me freeze, bro! I'll do anything!" Alfred squeezed him tightly so Matthew couldn't escape. He leaned his head on his twin's shoulder. "Just be happy I'm home and stop whining."

Matthew took a deep breath. "Breaking into my house just might be a good cause for whining." He then fully relaxed from the scares Alfred had put him through, and yes, he meant scares as in the plural of scare.

When one has a relative doing all these secret missions, the world news gets a whole lot more suspenseful. Every time there was a terrorist attack or a battle anywhere in the world, Matthew would hold his breath until the casualties were known.

And that happened nearly every single day. Matthew had often tried to quit watching the news.

Alfred didn't seem to take the danger seriously.

He had always longed for adventure and excitement, giving his parents and twin more than enough panic to last a lifetime. He had joined the air force at age eighteen after a gap month of mostly volunteer work all over the world.

Yet, during training, Alfred proved himself to be just what the USA needed for a different position. Due to Alfred's job being top secret, Matthew didn't know exactly what Alfred did, but his twin did let details slip.

They had always been close, and Alfred trusted Matthew to keep quiet about anything he said.

What Matthew did know was this. Alfred's job was very risky. He traveled to different allies and enemies of the Unites States. He often did undercover work to prevent terrorist attacks, and he was constantly training to be stronger and stronger.

Also, Alfred had still somehow acquired a license to fly planes along the way.

The first bit of knowledge when Alfred nearly died from a car bombing in a foreign location that his family had never even known the name of.

 _Fear, reckless driving, hospital clean smell, bloody bandages. Alfred's fake smile and then terrible sobs of survivors guilt. Relief and fear. The feeling that this could happen again._

Only a few months later, Matthew had gotten a call from his brother unexpectedly saying he was in Canada and that they should meet up while he was there. Strangely, Alfred had made Matthew promise no less than four times to leave right at that moment. He had wondered about why but figured it was just Alfred being his strange self.

Matthew had been more than angry when he waited an hour at the ice cream place they were supposed to meet at. Alfred's cell went straight to voice mail. When he had gotten home that night, Alfred was sitting in his favorite chair with a shit eating grin. "Hey Matt! Did you hear about the shooting about two miles East of this place in the train station?"

Matthew had shaken his head quickly and rushed to turn on the news with a steady hand won from stress in classes when Alfred added, "Because there wasn't one. I stopped it."

 _Joy, pride, hope. The feeling of safety, that anything could be stopped, prevented for the good of all._

In the present, Matthew pulled away to smile at his twin. "Save any lives lately, Al?" Alfred grinned proudly, his eyes flashing like lightning.

"Of course dude! It's what I do. I was just in Russia. It's even colder than here, but I got an ally to help stop attacks between Israel and Palestine. I think even you know it's a mess there like a cheeseburger with way too much ketchup. My boss said I needed backup, but this guy seems to think he's in charge. Ha! As if!"

"Play nice, Alfred. There's nothing wrong with a teammate. Can you trust this man?", Matthew asked as he led Alfred to the kitchen and began to make some hot chocolate the way they both liked it, with way too much whipped-cream to be healthy.

He always felt important when Alfred told him about missions. It required a great deal of trust. He was a bit concerned with Alfred having a partner that could possibly betray him. Maybe he had been watching too many double agent shows on television.

"Nah. He's a creep, but darn is he a hot creep. I think I have a concerning type, Matthew. It's just a huge turn on to watch someone knock out someone else with one hand. One hand, Matthew! This guy is like the fucking hulk!"

Matthew nearly choked on his sudden laugh as he tried to hold it in, feeling the burn of hot liquid threatening to travel into his nose. "That is concerning for sure", he deadpanned and set a mug of steaming chocolate goodness in front of Alfred.

He sat down across from him. "Just be careful. I'd hate to lose you to the "commies" as you call them." He took a sip of his hot chocolate and waiting for the incoming proclamation.

"They are commies! He's a red, Matt! A freaking red! It is my God given assignment as an American to convert him to the way of capitalism and freedom! Soon, he'll be as good as American when he sees how awesome my home is!

Oh little red, with your heart in Stalingrad!" Alfred began to sing Baby's a red by House of Heroes.

Matthew rolled his eyes and took a sip of his hot chocolate. "I'm not even sure what to say to that. What if you take him to North America and he likes Canada better, eh?", he teased.

Alfred leaned over the table to look at him with fake seriousness. "Are you trying to steal my partner, Mattie? You know treason is punishable by death?"

"Only if you can catch me. I'll disappear into the frozen lands where you won't dare follow!", Matthew said with a serious mask that was cracking a bit as his lips curved upwards.

"Then I shall wear many ridiculous coats! You can't escape the law!"

Matthew shook his head with a laugh. "You'd still freeze. Anyway, Francis and Arthur should be here soon for Christmas break. I wasn't expecting you until the end of the week. It'll be nice to surprise them, eh?"

"Yup! We should gel our hair back and watch them struggle to figure out which of us is which!"

Matthew had a feeling that this would be a great vacation.

* * *

Arthur was grumpy. Francis was joking that that was nothing new which did not help in the least bit, thank you very much.

Driving with the frog for hours was hell. At least Francis had slept on the airplane. Arthur had not, unfortunately.

They spent most of the ride arguing about the music selection and the dangers of groping while driving. Francis said it wasn't dangerous even after Arthur had nearly let go of the wheel when the Frenchman somehow snuck a hand between his legs without him noticing.

Arthur jumped from the car when he parked in front of Matthew's house, gasping when he nearly tripped, his foot caught in the seatbelt. Arthur made a small hiss at it and kicked the restraint off with annoyed energy.

He ignored Francis' laughter behind him and marched towards the door. Francis ran to catch up. "Smile Arthur! Our sweet Matthew is waiting just behind that door. You wouldn't want to make him sad, would you? And our wild son is probably on his way. There is much to be happy about, non?" Francis kissed his cheek and took the boxes.

Arthur smiled slightly at his husband's words. He blushed a tad at the kiss and sent Francis a half hearted glare. "Don't get all touchy on me. The boys will be disgusted."

"If the boys cannot appreciate love than that is their problem which I blame on your bad influence."

"My bad influence! I'm not that one that taught them-"

Arthur cut off abruptly as the door opened. "Ah Matthew! How good to see you lad."

Except there was something off. The man in the doorway had bruises on his cheek.

Arthur felt rage flare up. Someone had hurt his innocent child, the type that had never even killed bugs and instead let them go back outside. "Who did that, Matthew? I swear I'll kill them!"

"Woah dude relax."

"Alfred, I am your guardian it is impolite to refer to me as dude." Arther was so used to mixing the twins up that he switched from thinking he was addressing Matthew to addressing Alfred without a second thought.

It was only when Francis gasped that he actually realized this meant Alfred was home early.

Francis dropped the gifts without a care and threw his arms around their youngest. "Mon fils! You are home! Je remercie le Seigneur!"

He held the twin they barely saw tightly, revealing in his confirmed safety. Alfred laughed and hugged back warmly. Francis and Alfred were both the type of men that really hugged, no silly half hugs with no warmth. Matthew was the same way at certain points.

Sadly, Arthur was usually one to shy away from hugs.

Francis was trying to fix that, but it was taking a discouraging amount of time to fix.

Alfred laughed and said, "Papa, you know I don't speak your fancy pants language!"

"You must learn!", Francis declared dramatically.

Arthur picked up the presents and walked inside. He was smiling softly and set them down. He walked over and ruffled Alfred's hair. "Finally back from your reckless missions I see. I'm glad you weren't shot fatally." That was about as warm as he usually got. His family was used to the strange way of showing affection Arthur had.

"As if anyone could bare to shoot this face!"

"Bonjour Papa. Comment allez-vous? Je vois que vous avez réalisé que l'un de nous est qui.", Matthew said from near the door where he had been watching the warm scene.

"Mattheu!", Francis exclaimed and let go of Alfred to hug his other son just as warmly. "Of course I've figured out which one of you is which! It is obvious for a genius such as I!"

Both of the boys laughed at that.

"I'm so glad you're both here and safe poppets.", Arthur admitted after a moment with a little blush.

"Aw thanks Artie!" Alfred grabbed the smaller man and spun around with him held a few inches above the ground.

"Put me down you giant brute freak of nature!", Arthur exclaimed and Matthew and Francis smiled at each other knowingly. Let the family holiday begin, strangeness and all.

Alfred always had a week of for Christmas vacation with his family and on the third day of that break something crazy fun happened. Their first tradition took place.

* * *

Matthew panted as he hid behind a wall. His finger on the trigger of his weapon. Running footsteps pounded down the hallway. He looked across the hall at Arthur and Francis who were also hiding and gave a determined nod.

It was time.

Their target came into view, a blur of yellow and brown. Point, breath, and "Fire!" The air was filled with nerf gun bullets at their target who kicked off the ground into a side flip and then kicking off a wall just to show off.

Alfred flashed a peace sign to his family as he sprinted. It was three to one. He aimed his own nerf gun, hitting Francis and Arthur with only using two bullets, two perfect shots. He was just about to turn the corner when he felt a small flick, looking down and seeing a red Styrofoam bullet stuck to his shirt. He looked up to see the barrel of a bright orange gun and wide, violet eyes before falling dramatically.

"My own twin! How could this be cruel world to turn the best of friends against each other in the cruel clutches of war! What cruelty!", he yelled dramatically and spasmed in a way that looked like a failed attempt at doing the worm.

Matthew's surprise turned to amusement. "You let me hit you."

Alfred grinned proudly and shook his head, sitting up slightly. "Nah bro. I guess your aim really is improving. And now I die!" He flopped back to the floor.

Matthew raised an eyebrow and looked from his toy gun to his brother.

"I shot you for real with this nerf gun?"

A nod.

"I shot one of the best agents in the US government?

Another nod this time with a wide smile. "What do you mean one of? I'm the best! Now stop asking me questions, let me rest in peace, cruel murderer."

Matthew tossed his nerf gun in the air. "Hell yeah! I am never playing this game again! I retire victorious! I win! I am awesome!" He jumped around with a few whoops of victory.

Alfred was still on the floor, now laughing so hard tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "Congrats agent Williams."

Their parents sat up from where they had "died" and Arthur sighed. "We'll get you next time, Alfred."

"Better make it fast old man. You're only going to get slower!"

"Shut up you brat!"

* * *

That night, Matthew's joy at being good enough to actually land a nerf bullet on his brother had given way to much darker thoughts. He laid awake in the room he shared with Alfred.

Matthew lived in their family's old vacation house in Canada. It was much too big for what he needed, but his family was very well off, and Matthew felt at home there.

It was close to the medical school had had chosen to study at and suited his needs perfectly.

The long haired twin moved around in his bed to get comfortable and frowned slightly.

Alfred had seemed untouchable before this, an expert, too fast to catch a bullet, but now the harsh reality was impossible to ignore. No one could dodge every bullet.

"Matt, are you ever going to stop squirming and actually fall asleep? You're keeping me up.", Alfred whispered and leaned over to look at the bed under his. Matthew smiled at the familiar scene of his brother leaning down from the top bunk to speak with him.

Without his glasses, Alfred looked much more like his younger self.

"Sorry. I'm just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

Matthew's smile faded and Alfred's eyes narrowed in concern instantly. So fast that it seemed Alfred's expression changed with Matthew's. Twins' intuition it seemed.

"Mattie, you alright?"

Matthew bit his lip before blurting out his worries. "If I can hit you with a slow nerf bullet, how will you not be hit with real bullets? You could die any day and I probably wouldn't even know. You'd be declared MIA and I'd never see you again."Matthew felt like his chest was being crushed just thinking about it.

"Then no one would call you Alfred anymore. Spotlights all yours.", Alfred joked with a small smile, not taking his own dangerous lifestyle seriously.

Matthew felt anger turn his blood hot for a short moment as if it was sparking. "That's not funny, Alfred.", he snapped. His brother's smile fell and Alfred flipped over the rail on the top bunk to lower himself to sit on the open space left on Matthew's bed.

There was a reflective silence between them before Alfred sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I've never lied, Matt. I'm working a dangerous job. But don't worry about it. It is my choice, and maybe it's a bit selfish..."

Matthew looked at him with open curiosity, but Alfred didn't meet his gaze.

Alfred pulled his legs up to his chest, looking a bit regretful and resting his chin on his knees. "I want to see the world, I want to feel good, to feel important, to save people, be a badass. I want it so bad, and I did it. I did it despite knowing my death will put you through hell. I'm sorry about that, but I need this Matthew. I can't belong in a normal life. It's not for me."

"You won't die.", was the first thing out of Matthew's lips. "Don't die and they'll be nothing to forgive. Gosh Al, only you would call risking your life to save lives of strangers selfish because it makes you feel good to save people. You don't cause me all that much worry anyway."

Alfred smiled again but it was sad, a faded version that insulted his usual brightness.

"I know that's not true. You look like someone's twisting a knife into you when you see my scars sometimes, and don't even get me started on dad's reaction to me being a bit roughed up from the job."

"That's because someone hurt my little brother and I couldn't do anything. It's not your fault, Alfie.", Matthew said softly feeling a bit of guilt at how Alfred had noticed his pain at seeing the reminders of Alfred's pain.

He had only seen his twin's scars once while at the beach in the summer when Alfred had a weekend break, and he had noticed that Alfred had not changed in the same room as him that night.

There weren't all that many anyway. There were two bullet scars making two dots there, and there were a few white lines from being cut with knives, but it made Matthew wish that anyone who had left a mark on his brother had suffered in return.

"You're doing the right thing, Al. I know you fight for what's right. I feel safer knowing people like you are protecting the world. There's nothing to be guilty or ashamed for, not even your scars. I just wish I could look after you a bit sometimes."

Alfred smiled for real this time. "I'm the older twin. It's my job to look after you."

Matthew patted his back condescendingly. "Sure you are."

There was a moment of quiet laughter shared between them. It had always been like this even before the twins were adopted by Arthur and Francis; they confided in each other, trusted each other, broke curfew to trade stories and laugh.

"I sometimes forget how easy this is.", Alfred said when he had stopped chuckling.

"Overseas and even in the US sometimes, I need to watch what I say. I never just...talk anymore."

Matthew smiled, feeling needed, feeling important in a way that all siblings could relate to. "I'm only a phone call away whenever you need."

"Even in different timezones?"

"Even if you wake me up at two am when I have a medical exam that day, just not when my favorite hockey team is having a late game."

Alfred laughed again.

* * *

The next day was Christmas Eve, the day Alfred has originally planned to arrive home. It was spent baking cookies and watching cheesy Christmas films. Arthur only set one batch of cookies on fire that year. Everything went so smoothly.

The world was taking pity on them.

Francis baked delicious goods with Matthew. Alfred entertained Arthur with thumb wars and stories of his adventures abroad to keep him from the kitchen.

They had a pillow fight that night before all four of them ate so much that moving was far too much of a chore. It's A Wonderful Life played almost unnoticed on the television. Arthur groaned into Frances shirt with a hand on his stomach.

Francis had his head rested on top of Arthur's with a small smile and a hand on Alfred's shoulder. Matthew had his head in Francis' lap, relaxing as Arthur absentmindedly played with his hair, and Alfred was squashed in between the couch and his brother, laying on his side with his head on Matthew's chest. One of Alfred's arms reached over Matthew to grip Arthur's free hand.

It was a chain of their family. It was connection. It was warmth. It was safety.

Matthew would look back on this moment.

He would remember the way they all had smiles on before falling asleep, remember knowing no one was going to hurt his family, remember how Alfred had soft snores and how his hair stuck up in every direction, and

he would wonder if there was anyway to ever get back to having such simple family moments again without the emptiness that he could feel present with a family of only three.

Christmas came and went far too fast.

* * *

Alfred had been playing in the snow with the extra warm jacket Francis had gotten him for Christmas, using the sling shot Arthur had gotten him to shoot snowballs at tree branches and enjoying that the didn't even shiver while the snow fell around him.

He had never understood how some adults lost their wonder at snowfalls. Each one was magical, and he would appreciate them with the eyes of a child until the day he died.

People just needed to remember to enjoy the moment more.

Then, everyone would be happier.

Matthew was inside making hot chocolate and petting his large dog Kuma something or other. Arthur and Francis were bickering outside on the porch about who was the best ice skater before Arthur got to annoyed and started a snowball fight, ruining the flowing, damn near perfect hair the Frenchman took pride in with one well aimed shot.

The phone rang and Matthew thought nothing of it, he reached into his pocket before finding his own phone still and silent despite Wannabe by the Spice Girls being played. There was only one other man in their family with that ringtone.

He felt a bit cold suddenly as he looked at the phone on the counter with the American flag case. He didn't move for a few moments, wondering if he could just pretend he hadn't heard it. He didn't know for sure, but usually, when Alfred got a call that wasn't from his family, he was being called to work.

It wasn't fair. They were supposed to have a few more days to relax and have fun, but duty seemed determined to tear Alfred from them early.

Matthew grabbed the phone with a sigh and felt any hope he had of being wrong fall at contact he saw there. It simply said "boss."

"Alfred, your boss is calling!", he called outside.

"Fuck!"


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred ran up the stairs so fast that he nearly slipped on the sparkling ice. He snatched the phone from Matthew's hand as if the fate of the world rested on that device, and for all they knew at the moment, it could.

Arthur and Francis had been summoned by Alfred's swear, all three civilians crowded the spy as he spoke into the phone. Alfred looked at them, about to tell them this was private before he seemingly forgot they were there at all. His eyes widened, and his world zeroed in on what he was hearing.

"Why was he even out on the field? I told that damn workaholic to take a break for Christmas! I know he doesn't believe in what the celebration's for but-"

...

Alfred fell silent as he listened to the call on the other end. His hand tightened on the phone until his knuckles were white and his eyes slipped shut. His family watched him composing himself with concern.

Arthur placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder and frowned a bit when Alfred just nodded to him and kept talking in a stressed and angry tone.

"He should have listened to my advice for once, but I'll get him back." The certainty in his voice gave his family a glimpse of how confident Alfred was in his own abilities. Alfred believed he was the best or would be the best.

Confidence linked to success and to survival. Every soldier convinced his or herself of victory before they entered the fight. Alfred had been on a winning streak, and he joked that there was no place for failure in his life.

"Where is he? Alrighty! Don't you worry." He forced a small smile despite his boss not being their to see it. It was in Alfred's nature to act positive in any situation. "The hero doesn't leave his friends injured and alone. I've got this!"

Alfred hung up the phone and looked at his family, noticing their concern and small frowns. "Cheer up guys! This shouldn't take too long, and I'll ask for a few more break days when I get home.", he said with a forced smile that hurt his family more than if he had frowned, because he was obviously hiding pain.

"Alfred, what is going on?", Francis asked calmly at the same moment Alfred sprinted past them.

"Kiku was on an easy mission, but he's been shot and needs evacuation right now. I'll go get him, drop him off at a hospital and come straight back. It'll take two days tops!", Alfred assured them as he cleared the stairs, yelling from his room by the end.

Matthew gasped quietly. Kiku Honda was an agent that Alfred liked to work with. He was Alfred's best friend and had even come over for Thanksgiving one year. Alfred would be devastated if he died, and that meant Alfred might be reckless on the battlefield.

Arthur swore and ran upstairs to help Alfred pack. He had trouble just sitting back while their was action to be taken. Francis wrapped an arm around Matthew and smiled softly when his son leaned against him a bit. "It don't like this Papa. You know how Alfred gets when someone hurts his friends."

Francis actually chuckled and Matthew looked at him in surprise and curiosity, wondering what was going on in the older man's mind to make him smile like that in such a serious moment. "I think Alfred fights his best when someone he loves is in trouble. I think you'll recall your playground days." Matthew blushed and laughed a bit as he remembered the simple time.

Everyone from primary school to high school new that if they messed with the dorky, quiet kid with glasses who was the perfect target for bullying, they would then have to deal with the jock, football and basketball, and lets not forget boxing champion of the school, but that message only really got out after Alfred broke a senior's nose when they were freshmen in high school after the older boy had stolen Matthew's lunch money.

Matthew bit his lip as he heard his brother running around upstairs.

"I almost feel sorry for the people that shot Kiku, but not really."

Alfred rushed downstairs with a small backpack and his boots and jacket still on. He threw his arms around Francis and Matthew and was warmly received. "Don't worry too much guys! I'll be home soon." He pulled away, but was stopped by Matthew grabbing the fabric on his shoulder.

Two surprised gazes met. Matthew hadn't even realized he was still holding on, but a bad feeling was washing over him, and he didn't let go quite yet. "Alfred, be safe. Okay?"

Alfred seemed uneasy at the sudden seriousness. Matthew's eyes were focussed and seemed piercing in that instant, and the use of his full first name was unusual as well. Alfred brushed it off. "You know I will be, Mattie!"

With that, he ran from the house and was gone in and instant, running towards the road. He had already said goodbye to Arthur upstairs.

Matthew watched in astonishment as a car pulled over and Alfred got in. The USA sure worked fast.

* * *

They settled back into their normal lives without Alfred. This wasn't uncommon, so none of them worried more than usual. Matthew felt a bit bad for it, but he enjoyed having his parents' undivided attention.

Near when Arthur and Francis had to return to their homes, they received a letter saying Alfred would not be coming home to visit for quite some time and while disappointed, they accepted it and understood that Alfred was needed elsewhere.

Soon, Matthew was alone again and preparing for school to start up once more.

He heard the doorbell and got up to answer it. He was curious as to who would be knocking on his door without calling ahead. Most of his friends were busy getting ready for school or on vacations, and his family was scattered across different countries.

He opened the door cautiously, always aware that Alfred had enemies and he looked almost exactly like his twin. Yet, when he saw who was there, the door swung open instantly. "Mr. Honda? What are you doing here? Is Alfred with you?"

Kiku had a look in his dark eyes Matthew had never seen in the calm man. He looked urgent like and animal on a hunt. He skipped telling Matthew just Kiku was fine like he usually did and grabbed Matthew's shoulder's suddenly, holding tight and causing the quiet man to jump.

"I need any safe house location you know of, Alfred's favorite hotel, airlines, anything Matthew.", he didn't yell, but he spoke quickly as if he couldn't even spare a moment to breath in between his words.

Matthew got a good look at the smaller male as his shoulder's were held in a grip that might as well have been made out of steal for how strong and cold it felt. The Japanese man had dark circles under his eyes. He was usually pale, but now he looked both like he was a ghost and scared enough like he was fleeing a ghost.

"Matthew!", was snapped when the blonde man didn't speak.

Matthew jumped again. "I-I don't know that stuff! How would I know Alfred's safe houses? I'm a civilian. This..." He trailed off realizing what Kiku's desperate need for information about Alfred could mean and his emotions instantly flared to meet the frantic nature of the man in front of him. "Where is my brother?"

"It's classified...", Kiku said softly and let go of his shoulders. Matthew noticed his eyes were red.

"Tell me now! What's going on! I have a right to know if it's something this bad! You can't just come here demanding information and not expect me to ask questions!"

Kiku shivered on the doorstep.

"For goodness sake come inside.", Matthew took a deep breath despite the feeling of something being really, really wrong. Panicking wasn't going to help anyone and neither was the agent on his doorstep catching a cold. Matthew grabbed Kiku's arm to pull him inside and let go as if he had been burned when the smaller man muffled a scream with his other hand.

That's when Matthew remembered he had been shot.

He gently led the agent inside despite his protest that he needed to get moving again.

"You can't help Alfred if you're so hurt that a tug on your arm nearly causes you to collaspe.", Matthew said gently. "Show me what's wrong. I'll go grab my first aid kit and-"

"You don't understand! Alfred is probably half way to North Korea by now!", Kiku protested as he swayed dangerously on his feet. Matthew froze. "D-Does Alfred often go there?" He was praying that this was just another mission, that Alfred was just fine and Kiku had overreacted...

"Of course not! Do you think your brother can blend in there? Alfred's about as Asian as a twinkie!"

"Twinkies are kinda the same shape as sushi rolls.", Matthew pointed out before he could stop himself.

Kirku finally gave into his bodies demands and sat down on one of Matthew's couches after staring at him strangely for a moment.

He started talking, and it was like he couldn't stop. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It was my mission, an oppertunity that could possibly save thousands, millions even." He laughed bitterly. "But I was shot pretty bad. They were going to send me anyway, but Alfred-"

He took a deep breath that seemed incredibly forced. "He took my mission. My undercover mission in North Korea with his blonde hair and big, blue eyes. He doesn't have chance and I need to stop him before he gets there."

He looked at Matthew pleadingly. "Please Matthew, any information is helpful."

"Alfred's favorite airline is Jetblue. He likes to take the most direct flight possible, but when he can't he usually gets a snack in between flights. He may use his credit card."

"Thank you."

Matthew let the agent use his computer. He watched Kiku hack through what seemed like a hundred firewalls in less than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The Asian's fingers flew over the keyboard and all the sudden, he sat back, letting his hands fall into his lap with a small sigh.

"He's gone."

"What do you mean, he's gone?", Matthew demanded. Kiku leaned back so Matthew could more easily see the screen. It was security footage in South Korea. Alfred was there with his back pack. Matthew watched his twin going to the airport exit. Alfred paused and Matthew begged him to turn around, but then, Alfred pushed through the threat of danger and was indeed gone.

Kiku stood up slowly as Matthew stared at the screen, frozen. This felt like a nightmare. This wasn't real. He would wake up on the couch with Alfred half buried under the cushions and pretend to be annoyed with the little snores in the morning. Yes, of course. This could not be real.

The world had frozen and then it suddenly sped up again, giving Matthew motion sickness.

"I'm so sorry, Matthew.", Kiku said softly. He looked fragile. The Canadian deduced that the agent had been shot on his shoulder by the way his left arm hand limply now. He shook every now and then in a way that had less to do with the cold and more to do with holding in grief.

Matthew looked at him blankly for a few moments, not knowing what to say or do, but then, he looked at the time on the footage playing on repeat. "That's only a few hours ago. Let's not underestimate Alfred. Sit down, let me tend to your wound. You getting more hurt doesn't do him any good."

Kiku's eyes widened and he looked like he was having a mush harder time keeping back tears. "How can you wish to help me? I might as well have signed Alfred's death certificate."

"Don't say that!", Matthew snapped in a volume much higher than what he normally spoke with. "Sit down before you fall down and shut up. Alfred can survive this. He always has. So we are going to go about our lives like normal until he gets home, and I don't normally ignore people in need."

Kiku obediently sat down. He was quiet throughout cleaning the wound and re-stitching it despite the occasional hiss. He was lost in his thoughts, and Matthew was distracting himself with his work.

The arrangement got them through the hour at least without any break downs.

* * *

Kiku walked down the halls of headquarters feeling physically better but a mental wreck. He just wanted to get to his room and lie down.

He felt like he hadn't deserved Matthew's kindness in fixing him up after he had apparently torn some stitches escaping medical. He hadn't even noticed until Matthew started re-stitching he wound.

Matthew would probably be as good of a doctor as his brother was an agent. Kiku flinched physically when he thought of Alfred in the past tense. Alfred was his best friend, and the guilt he felt at being responisble for whatever may happen next was crippling.

Kiku needed rest. He needed a shower to wash away the day and then to sleep for as long as possible to escape reality, but when he turned the corning to his room, there was someone waiting for him.

He bit his lip to hold in a cry of pain when he roughly shoved against the wall. His wound screamed for him. Instincts kicked in, but the agent was too exhausted to put up much of a fight. He tried to bring his knee up to hit his attacker. It landed, but it was a weak blow.

His eyes zeroed in on his attacker and narrowed. "Ivan..."

The two had never seen eye to eye, and no, that was not a reference to their drastically different heights. They had been part of the same intense training at one point, and the fights they had to be ranked number one were brutal. Kiku always smiled to himself when he remembered the shock of his professors that an agent as small as himself could come out on top, stealing first from the Russian.

Alfred never knew of any of this, and Kiku didn't deem it neccesary since Alfred and Ivan needed to play nice and be partners for some missions. He didn't want to complicate things.

Ivan's smile was as creepy as ever and the halls felt much colder than before with his presence. His strange, near violet eyes flashed with anger close to madness. "Look at you, little agent, not only messing up your own missions but getting such a sweet boy killed."

"Alfred left without my knowledge. I didn't mean-", he started to say coldly, defending himself despite believing himself to be guilty. He didn't get to finish his sentence because Ivan threw him to the ground as if he couldn't bare to touch him any longer.

Kiku turned his fall into a roll and quickly put his hands up. He took a few deep breaths, adrenalin steadied his shaking legs.

Ivan walked forwards slowly, trusting Kiku's pride to keep his prey from running. "Your plan was flawless. You had to have known Alfred was too damn nice to send an injured agent to his death. I told him caring too much would be the death of him. You got to live, but you deserve to die."

"I would gladly have went!", Kiku was enraged. He never, never, would be cowardly and send a friend into danger to save himself. His emotions were already out of control, and now he wanted to take them all out in making Ivan bleed. "And do not speak as if you actually care about Alfred. You just like having someone equal to you in the ring so you can play at trying to break him down. That's how you work, because you are sick in the head, disgusting! You're probably just mad that someone else stole your kill."

Kiku was the one to charge this time. He swung with his right hand, and he would swear in that moment nothing could have felt better than his fist connecting hard with the larger man's cheek.

Ivan growled but didn't take time to register his pain. He grabbed the smaller man's left shoulder and squeezed so that Kiku's world became nothing more than pain. He wasn't sure if he screamed, but when he refocussed, he couldn't breath.

There was something cold pressing against his neck. He clawed at it despierately, needing air. His lungs burned.

A voice tickled his ear.

"Since you are about to die, I'll let you in on a little secret. Alfred was becoming everything to me."


	3. Chapter 3

Students crowded the halls, laughing talking, and most with some nervous habit playing out. Nails were bitten, stress relief candies passed out, lips chewed and fingers tugged on. Test scores were coming out that day.

Everyone felt nervous and everyone dealt with it differently. Some students brushed it off with jokes and laughter. Some went to their friends for reassurance. Others, like Matthew, stayed silent and waited for the teacher to finish hanging the sheets of grades.

He always hung back, feeling confident he had done the best he could and trusting his grade to reflect his efforts, but this time, he didn't rush the board for another reason.

His feet seemed to have turned to bricks in the past few days. His eyes were as dry as they had been the few times he subjected the sensitive orbs to contact lenses. His body ached from a lack of sleep and getting the few previous hours in random places in odd positions since Matthew had been falling asleep on his feet as of late.

It had been weeks since an agent was at his doorstep, but it felt like an eternity since he started waiting few news. Every time his phone rang, he alternated before snapping it up are staring until it went to voicemail.

He couldn't sleep normal knowing his brother could be dying. A test score seemed so trivial now, and even though he knew Alfred would tell him to worry about himself and his own future if he knew Matthew was fretting the the point of nightmares, he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Matthew forced himself to look at his grade once the crowd had thinned, feeling disappointment already. He didn't deserve to do well when he had barely spent an hour studying until he stumbled over how to treat stab wounds and wondering if Alfred was bleeding out somewhere with a blade in his chest. The medical book was slammed shut as Matthew forced himself not to be sick.

He sighed quietly as his tired eyes struggled to function, but when they did, he barely felt anything at what he saw. It was an eighty, not terrible but still the lowest grade he had gotten all year. Oh well...

"Birdie, what happened? I got a higher grade than you, and that's just freaky."

Matthew turned to look at his friend with a small, tired smile. "You are smart, Gilbert. It shouldn't be that much of a surprise."

When most people say small world, they don't know just how small it could be. Gilbert had gone to Matthew and Alfred's high school. He had been the first person to show an interest in Matthew for what made him himself, all the silly little things that the quiet boy had never dreamed anyone would notice. Gilbert was a nice guy under his bad boy act, and they dated for a few weeks until Gilbert met Liz and...

They were best friends now. And honestly, Matthew liked that a bit better. Romance was stressful, and when he started dating Gilbert, he had said yes to say yes. He hadn't even been sure if he liked guys. They had been so young and silly.

"I know that. I'm too awesome to be anything but genius, but did you not sleep or something?", Gilbert prodded with concern in the present, wrapping an arm around Matthew's shoulders.

"I've been having rough nights."

"Why?"

It was such a simple question, but when Matthew opened his mouth to lie, he felt as though his throat was blocked. His fear and repressed sadness cried out for a chance to be resolved, but Matthew had a terrible feeling that they may never be and that grief would soon make a trio of misery.

It had been weeks after all. No one had contacted him. Some people say no news is good news, but Matthew's need to know was driving him up the wall.

"Matt! Matt what's wrong?" The world seemed to snap into focus, demanding attention as Gilbert shook his shoulders. Matthew blushed. He had been zoning out often lately. His scientific mind told him it was due to stress and insomnia, but he didn't have the will to do more than take and Advil PM and stare at the walls in his room at night.

"I'm sorry."

Gilbert sighed in relief at actually getting a response. "Damn it. That was not cool, Matthew! Tell me what's going on. Do you need me to beat the crap out of someone? Who's giving you shit?"

Gilbert looked terrifying with his red eyes sparking with bloodlust for some unknown man, his hands holding tight to the notebook with some random metal band signal on the front but filled with doodles of baby birds. Matthew laughed weakly. He knew that look. He knew the face of someone about to commit themselves to someone else's vengeance from his brother who had called it justice instead and defended the weaker kids at their school.

His laugh caught in his throat and came out a quiet sob. "Alfred..." "Alfred?", Gilbert repeated in surprise, his eyes lightening from murderous rage to simply being lost. Matthew covered his mouth before taking a deep breath and saying as calmly as he could. He had to fight through the pressure in his mind, behind his eyes, and in his throat.

"He's-" _Not dead, not dead not dead._ "-MIA."

Matthew couldn't explain everything to Gilbert. Things like the details of Alfred's job were kept carefully hidden away. Most people at med school didn't even know Matthew had a brother, and that was the safest way for things to be, but to anyone who asked, Matthew told them that Alfred was in the airforce as his twin had planned to be.

Matthew gasped when he was immediately pulled into a tight hug. It was exactly what he needed or at least one of things he needed. The warmth from the embrace rushed in and reminded him that the world did not consist of only fear and dread. It was not narrowed down to the phone in his hand and the news he was waiting for nor the test scored pinned up on the wall.

"Matthew, you don't have to be in school right now, you know? The teachers will understand if you need some time.", Gilbert said in a voice that was uncharacteristically soft.

"No, I need this. School is the only thing that distracts my mind.", the blond admitted shakily. He forced himself to smile and pull away from his best friend. "Look at me, sad over someone that might not even be dead. What would Alfred say?"

Gilbert smiled back with a much more convincing humor. "He'd probably call you a worrier and then feel bad about making you cry."

"Shut up, Gil. I wasn't crying."

"Were too!"

"Was not!"

The childish debate helped a bit, and Gilbert took him out for drinks that night which also helped, but in the back of his mind, he knew things were bad even if he ignored it for the moment.

* * *

"A partner. No, no. I haven't had one of those in years, and I have no want for a young fool slowing me down."

Ivan turned away from the punching bag which had ruffles making circular shapes from where his fists had connected. It was tilted dangerously, barely holding on. Against such a giant of a man, the poor bag had never stood a chance. He turned to face the shaking intern in the door. "You tell the council that this is a mistake, and that I will continue to be a solo agent. Can you do that little one?"

The boy in the doorway's eyes widened. He glanced at the chain holding the punching bag which was bent with part of a key loop open and barely escaping a fall. He hoped the bag would not be an indicator of his own fate. He gulped, but had his orders. "S-sir they insisted! And Alfred is top of his class. H-he won't slow you down, and since you refuse to work with Agent Honda-"

Ivan's eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward with a small smile. He had noticed something quite interesting. "You call Agent Jones by his first name. That is peculiar for an intern here. We have formalities, da? Unless this Jones man is a casual weakingly that leaves himself open."

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but he was beaten to it.

"There's nothing foolish about hating all these silly rules! Hey, Ravis! How are ya kiddo? I can take it from here."

Ivan turned around calmly with a strained smile. He was supposed to be training. He didn't have time to deal with this. A blonde young man stood near the demolished punching bag. He didn't look as impressed as he should have by the force of Ivan's blows. Cocky brat.

Ivan walked forward with his hands clasped behind his back, hearing Ravis scampering off. "The trainees need disapline. That one will never be an agent anyway, too cowardly and weak, but for the other more promising ones, a lack of order can be disaterious."

Alfred crossed his arms and leaned on the bag. He stared Ivan down with a wide smile but calm eyes. Ivan glared back. It was there first standstill. A battle of wits that could tell him more about a person than the force of their blows. Alfred didn't look away or look afraid, leaving Ivan shocked.

Alfred smiled in victory, and then the bag of course swung away and left him falling. Ivan raised an eyebrow as the younger agent stumbled and then laughed at his own mistake of forgetting what shape the punching bag was in.

Ivan's eyes widened slightly, expression briefly changing from boredom and unimpressed to surprise and wonder. He had not heard someone laugh so freely in years. He had almost forgotten the sound of it. It was like Alfred had forgotten he was being watched an judged, or maybe... Maybe, he just didn't care. Foolish...

The American looked back at him with a little smile and crossed his arms at an attempt at seriousness. He laughed again and took a deep breath to calm himself. "Okay. I'm good now."

Ivan was busy watching his eyes flash with unashamed happiness. They held the sky, and they were just as easy to watch as the sky, wide and open for anyone to look at.

"That wasn't such a great first impression, but I swear that I can fight. I am Alfred F. Jones!" He introduced himself like an important man. There was pride in his tone and joy at the fact that he was simply himself, someone to be proud of.

"Hey big guy, what are you staring for?"

Ivan snapped out of it when Alfred spoke and anger seized him. How dare this child make him wish of happier times with his laughter and marvel at a name of a nobody! "How old are you?"

"Nineteen and still alive after ten missions, my dude."

Ivan laughed, but it was nothing like Alfred's carefree chime. "You will be dead in a week if you come with me. Stay home boy while you can."

He watched Alfred's eyes narrow. "If I recall right Ivan, you were second in your Nato class. I'm a number one. And I've already traveled with Kirku and lived. He's numero uno in your class, is he not?" The American's eyes seemed to glow like ice when the sun passes through it. Was this boy even human? Did he not fear?

Ivan was nearly a head taller than him, yet Alfred seemed perfectly at ease taunting the Russian.

"I've got a bright idea. Let's spar! I'll show ya what I can do!"

Ivan put his fist up. He broke Alfred's nose and called it a day, a win for him and his solo cause.

Alfred came back the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that until both of them were covered in bruises. Colored in by each others hands, shaped and made stronger each time.

And again and again Ivan won, but his victories became less fast at an alarming rate. He was beginning to see why Alfred was so promising to this organization. He learned so fast it seemed his mind was a living, flowing thing with its own set of eyes to see through the ways of the world.

The smaller man quickly realized his normal fighting style was useless. It relied on being the strongest, and the smaller man was not able to best Ivan on brute strength alone. However, he was faster, and he began to use that. He darted like a wasp, inflicting small hits until Ivan was infuriated and made a mistake.

On the second week of them sparring everyday, Alfred cried out when he was tossed to the ground, cutting his palms on the hard floor. His breathing was sharp and uneven. Ivan smirked even though his cheek throbbed from the hit Alfred had gotten past his defenses. "Will you ever give up?"

"No chance in hell." Alfred stood up with that crazy grin that Ivan had found lit his blood on fire. "I'm gonna win today!"

And win he did.

Alfred's training paid off, and he gave Ivan hell. It was a quick move that did it, a hard hit to the head that crumpled the giant.

And as Ivan laid on the floor watching victory in Alfred's expression, he felt like he was watching a force of nature, and he was content in his partner's ability, not because Alfred had won one out of fourteen fights with him, but because Alfred kept coming back, and he never accepted failure.

Ivan wondered if the force of nature before him could fail.

If one keeps getting up, have they ever truly failed; could they?

What an enigma...

But he had found in the present that Alfred was not the wind that he rode whenever he got his hands on a plane. He was not a part of the wide, open sky his eyes reflected, nor was he the snow that revived itself into water.

The forces of nature were eternal, and they did not care who was hurt to maintain balance.

Alfred cared... Alfred cared far too much.

Alfred would always break the rules to save someone else. No matter what the risk to himself was, he would take it, and that had killed him.

Caring was not an advantaged.

And then there was Ivan with a struggling, injured agent turning blue in his choke hold. He could lose his job for this, his status, but he didn't mind, because he had cared for the foolish agent that played with death.

He gasped when a sudden pain filled his head. Kiku fell from his grasp sucking in air and then coughing as his abused airway struggled to keep up with his breathing. Pathetically, he looked much like a beached fish. Ivan kicked at him but missed as the smaller agent scrambled to his feet with a harsh glare. Tears coated his cheeks, but he was up and fighting despite any pain.

Ivan turned to see who had gotten in the way of his kill and stiffed as he found himself pulled into a tight hug by thin, long arms.

"Please Ivan, don't hurt him! Too much blood has been shed already! I can't take anymore! Kiku didn't mean for Alfred to go!" Felliciano held the killer in a tight embrace, sobbing into Ivan's coat. There was no anger, just the grief and sadness of someone battle weary.

Ivan took a deep breath and got a hold of himself. He took in his surroundings. A clipboard laid on the ground, that must have been what had hit him. Maybe, the Italian had thrown it.

Ivan looked up to meet a gaze of ice. Ludwig's light blue gaze had never looked more intense. He did not tolerate people hurting his friends, but Felliciano acted as an effective sheild to Ivan from the murderous blond.

Ludwig helped keep Kiku up and watched Felliciano protectively. "Feli, let go of the Russian!", he snapped. His boyfriend shook his head frantically and just kept crying. This was too much stress for him.

Ivan felt a bit sick. Felliciano had once been one of the best agents in the base. He could charm with a sweet grin and then clear house with his twin pistols and his older brother by his side. That was before he got captured and tortured. PTSD was a bitch.

And at that moment, Ivan wondered if Alfred could break the same way.

* * *

Alfred's heart beat rapidly. His hands shook, and he was hiding behind a nuclear missal in a North Korean base. Just a normal day fighting for his life, ha! He wished.

He needed to move.

He tightened his grip on his pistol. He had two bullets left, and it just wasn't going to be enough, but no matter what happened to him, he had to get away from the now ruined missals. That's what the mission had been. Alfred loved science, but even he didn't understand what the best chemists in the world had gotten together to make completely.

It was a compound that when injected properly into a missal made it work much faster. That way, North Korea could fire all they wanted, but the missals they shot into the air would instead be self-destruct buttons.

It was genius. No nation would take the blame but North Korea. There would be no war afterwards, and it would be written off as a technical failure in every history book. Or... It could be completely useless of the missals were never fired, but it was a safety measure Alfred was proud to die for.

He had already been shot, and blood poured from his left arm reminding him of the time he'd broken his nose playing football and watched the red liquid intensely for the first time, fascinated with how it coated everything so completely. The situation was much more dangerous then a lost game.

He didn't know the layout of this base, and he had cut communication earlier so that no one could track and therefore try to stop him. He needed to make it look like he had never been in the missal room at all. He could run aimlessly, but he doubted his luck would be that good for him to end up in a place with a good lie waiting for him to convince his killers of.

It felt hopeless. Alfred groaned and felt hot tears making their way down his cheeks. He didn't want to die. He was almost twenty, and he wanted to see that birthday. Damn it all! He wasn't even old enough to drink yet! It wasn't fair. Alfred had given his everything to the world, he poured his life out in smiles and kindness, and in return, the world seemed to stay upright for him for a good few years, but his gifts had run out.

Alfred was one of those people who noticed the good. He could be freezing in Russia and spread his arms, delighted at how the wind pushed on him, or be in training camp and giggle after getting a black eye from the adrenalin rush. He could nearly down while patrolling the rivers near the Mexican and American border and then joke about how at least the water was warm, but his optimism had finally paid its last sum.

He doubted anyone could really face death with a smile.

He watched blood drip from his limp left had onto the floor. It was hypnotizing. Maybe... He could just close his eyes, just for a moment. A little nap never killed anyone.

"No, Alfred! Get ahold of yourself!", Alfred hissed to himself and jerked his eyes away from the glowing blood puddle. He had mission to complete. He took a water bottle from his pack and poured it onto the floor, and while bleeding out and on the verge of going into shock, Alfred forced himself to wipe up his own blood with his hoodie.

There could be no evidence he had been in the room.

He screamed into his teeth when his bullet wound was aggravated. Inside his head was denial.

 _It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt. This is nothing, nothing, nothing!_

Alfred finished and put the hoodie in his pack. He didn't have time to rest. He turned on his the hard device in his ear and tried to sound in control when he spoke.

"This is Agent Alfred F. Jones. Please pick up. I'm in North Korea in the missal room. I'm as good as captured." His heart leapt in fear at his own statement, and Alfred took a shaky breath to calm down and focus. "I need a path out and an excuse for being in the base that doesn't have to do with missals."

There was terrifying moment when there was only static coming into Alfred's ears from his communications devices. Then, someone picked up.

"What have you done, sunflower?"

"Ivan!", Alfred laughed in relief, feeling like he could breathe again. "I've never been so happy to hear your voice, dude! Get the layout map we have of this place and help a buddy out."

Alfred heard Ivan shouting orders to the other people with him. Alfred waited and tried not to pass out. He decided he needed to stand, because he wasn't going to pass out on the ground like some wimp.

He cried out when he stood, pulling and stretching wounds. That was definitely a wake up. "Alfred!", Ivan yelled into the earpiece, making Alfred wince and his ear hurt. "Relax, big guy. I'm still here. No need to ruin my ear drums."

"You're hurt, you fool.", Ivan's tone was gentle despite the insult, and Alfred could so clearly picture his face, a light scowl but concerned eyes.

"I've been shot before. Now, what's the plan?"

With the guidance of Ivan, Alfred managed to sneak his way a few halls from the missal room on a route that made it look like he had been trying to take out a high ranking general. His legs shook, and once he heard that he had reached the point of having a successful mission, he smiled softly. "The hero wins again."

His gun fell from his shaking fingertips and he stumbled, falling to the floor and just laying there. The tiles felt pleasantly cold. His eyes lit up with delight.

"Ivan, I can see the sky. It's a beautiful day.", he said softly. He had been terrified his last sight would be the dim interior of the base, but what a treat had found him! The window before him showed green grass, blue eyes and a few lazy clouds.

"Alfred, you need to keep moving."

"I can't. It's over man." Alfred giggled, the blood loss made him feel light and giddy. "I did it! I was the hero! One of the best agents ever."

The other side of the device was quiet, so Alfred kept talking.

"I know you must think this is sad, but I expected this, so it's really okay. Y'know, Kiku's going to feel awful. That's too bad, because it's my choice. No greater love is there than a man to die for his friends."

Alfred watched the clouds blow away from the sun. It was so bright! He felt content, wondering if he could just fly to it.

He remembered how he had jumped from the swings as a child, tiny hands reaching for the heavens as he declared he would reach them one day. He had so worried his family, and gravity had always deposited him in Arthur's waiting arms.

"My dad told me this would happen. He's really smart, but don't tell him that. He was a police officer, but he retired and became an editor, weird huh?" Alfred laughed weakly. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he kept smiling. "We fought constantly about me going to the air force. He just didn't want me hurt. I'm so sorry he was right."

Alfred sighed softly, feeling his eyes growing tired. "I hate the dark. Mattie set up a nightlight in our bedroom despite him having trouble sleeping in the light. He's a good bro... I wonder if he could even fix me up now. He's one of the best doctors out there, or at least I know he will be."

Alfred weakly reached up to take out his earpiece. He kept talking about his family to keep himself from panicking completely. He didn't want to die afraid, but he was cold and terrified.

"Papa says that I have a guardian angel like everyone else. He thinks I'm brave even when I hide during horror movies, and whenever I'm sad... He would make these amazing chocolate chip cookies even though they're no fun to cook."

Alfred paused and just breathed for a moment. He felt like weight was crushing his lungs.

"Ivan, I'm afraid."

He could have sworn he heard a sniffle, but that was silly.

"Alfred F. Jones, you have served well. Destroy the communication device."

Business as usual.

"Yes sir."


End file.
